


I want to hold you close

by CharlieDC



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:05:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7346245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieDC/pseuds/CharlieDC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bits helps Jack unpack his new apartment. It's the fluffiest fluff in the whole wide world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I want to hold you close

**Author's Note:**

> [based on this post](http://aymsorb.tumblr.com/post/146712203666/wheeloffortune-design-babebitty-jacks#notes)   
>  [follow me on tumblr!!!](http://bittleforpresident.tumblr.com)

The pizza box from the night before was still on the counter and, after deciding long and hard if it was worth saving, Bitty dumped the whole thing. Let’s be real here, if you don’t save the pizza right away the cheese gets all hard and gross and the toppings start going stale. Refrigerate asap or just toss it, that’s all there is to it. What with moving everything in last night and trying to organize some stuff here and some stuff there, Jack and Bitty really had no time to finish the whole box (or even have the energy to consume it period).

Earlier that morning, they woke up a tangled mess of limbs on the (unmade) bed; there was one blanket strewn across the two of them and boxes everywhere (namely the Target box that had Jack’s bedding in it). Jack ruffled through the drawer of unpacked clothing and found some running attire around the ass crack of dawn (“It’s only 5, Bits, you should be up too.” “Let me fucking sleep, Zimmermann.”) for his daily run. Bitty tossed and turned but by the time Jack’s front door was closing he was too awake to will himself back to unconsciousness.

Instead, he hauled his ass out of bed and took to setting up the Mr. Coffee machine in Jack’s large (beautiful, gorgeous, tear-jerking) kitchen. He breathed in the homey smell of French roast and poured himself the first brew of the morning. Of the new apartment, really, because as he unpacked a mug and washed it thoroughly for his coffee, he looked around the apartment and sighed. He can’t believe, Jack made it  _ here.  _ That they  _ both  _ made it here: Bitty is graduating college soon and Jack is playing in the NHL, it’s quite surreal. After fixing himself a mug, he walked around and thought about what he should unpack first. Walking back in the bedroom, he noticed that Jack already started unpacking clothes; either hanging them up or putting them in drawers.

Pulling out his phone (and earbuds) from the smorgasbord of boxes, clothes and other items, Eric scrolled through his playlists and decided on one called  _ work work work work work work  _ and hit shuffle. He stuffed his phone in his pocket, took periodic coffee sips, and went to organizing and stowing away his boyfriend’s clothes.

There were suits neatly hung up in the front of the walk-in closet on the bar, but there were plenty of boxes inside and outside the closet, some popped open and most still neatly sealed shut. Bitty started with the unsealed ones, the nearest one to him was  _ workout/sweats _ . He unpacked those, color coordinated (but there wasn’t much to coordinate because it was mainly blues, greys and blacks - Eric giggled and rolled his eyes fondly) and neatly stacked and sorted each pair of clothing. He got some painters tape and a sharpie, labeling each drawer (making sure the tape could be easily removed, naturally) - making it easier for Jack to know what went where.

Bitty was taking a coffee-refill break (and a mini dance break if he’s being honest) and his phone decides that now would be a perfect time to  [ blast Nicki through his ears ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u4cFNwqX8hA) . Busting some dance moves only to be busted when one is alone, he got back to the room and looked around, cracked open a new box labeled  _ ties _ . He was putting ties in correspondence with what dress shirts, trying to make it easier for Jack to know what matches with what. Trying to make it easier for Jack period - letting him know what is appropriate to wear when and that this shirt matches with these shoes and these belts and shoes. He was truly keeping Jack in his mind, because he knows how much Jack has been through. He knows that he calls Eric to help with his wardrobe mainly because of his amazing sense of fashion and coordination, but also because of his anxiety. Not quite knowing if what he is wearing is appropriate or if the colors compliment each other. Bitty understands - not on a personal level but  _ he gets it  _ \- and he wants to help in the best way possible.

Earbuds in, hot coffee refilled and wearing his Determined Face, he rips open another box with  _ t shirts  _ written in Jack’s scrawl. Wiggling around in only a way one can do when they’re having a personal concert with their iPhone, Bitty starts to unpack. He notices the obvious wear-to-the-gym t-shirts and the nicer out-in-public shirts that only Eric could identify as either; Jack not so much. He decides to help out his boyfriend, setting one drawer aside, labeled ever so eloquently  _ sweat-worthy shirts _ and  _ publicly decent shirts _ (he thinks Jack will get a kick out of that). He organized those ones by color, too; the more worn-out ones at the bottom and the newer, nicer ones at the top. 

Going through Jack’s accessories, Bitty stumbles upon some cufflinks, and he decides that maybe he should coordinate those too! He finds appropriate cufflinks that would match with _this_ jacket and _those_ shirts and _these_ shoes. He goes a bit crazy with matching each pair of belts and socks and shirts with the suits and shoes and whatever else a man would need to look stunning in a three piece. 

Just as he’s finishing up the last verse to Starships, he decides to belt it out. If he’s here alone why not go all out? After retrieving some ziplock bags from the box labeled  _ kitchen misc. ???,  _ Bitty put labeled and organized accessories into each bag, setting it in a drawer or hanging it up with the clothes already there. Skips the next three songs and lands on  [ _ PILLOWTALK _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_3d6GntKbk) . Doing a small  _ I fucking love this song _ dance, Bitty goes into Full Concert Mode and starts singing (very nicely, if he does say so himself) to the sultry tones of Zayn Malik’s voice.

Right around the beginning of the second verse, Bitty hears the familiar sound of baritone behind him. Bitty whirls around, deer-caught-in-the-headlights for sure, and pops his earbuds out of his ears. They hang loosely around his neck, Zayn’s belted notes echoing throughout the closet. 

Jack is smiling at him as he’s on his knees, a drawer open in front of him, as if he’s in the middle of putting stuff away.

“How long have you been there?”

“Just as you were walking back from the kitchen, I got home. I realized you couldn’t hear me so I just sat here and… enjoyed the show.” He was trying not to laugh, and Bitty found that he was the same.

“Are you  _ chirping me? _ ”

“Never, Bits.” He winks at him, and goes back to putting whatever else away.

Bitty smiles at Jack, even though he’s not looking anymore; and notices the way the spotlights on the ceiling shine down on Jack’s features. The sharp cut of his cheekbones and the shadows on his jawline, disappearing and lighting up all along the underside. A soft white illuminates his brow bone, and even softer yet on the left side of his face but Eric could still make out the fondness and joy in his eyes. He didn’t catch what Jack said next; he was too busy being in love with him. Too busy having every moment flash before his eyes of  _ how much he loves him _ . Of how they  _ got to this very point in time _ . Jack trusting Eric enough to confide in him about his anxiety and be open and communicate about it. Bitty talking to Jack about his life and his family and  _ how hard _ it was to come out to his parents.

This moment lost Eric in time, he was suspended and the only thing that brought him back down was Jack - it was Jack smiling wide at him.

“Bits?”

It was as if he was snapped back - like a sudden rush of… of  _ something _ brought him back to the current state of reality. He could hear the next song playing through the muffled noise of the earbuds (Cardiac Arrest by Bad Suns) and his own heartbeat, the softness of his feet moving against the carpet, too, as he shifted he nervously moved his feet.

“M-yeah? Yes?” Bitty looked directly into Jack’s eyes and he felt his eyes crinkling as he smiled back at him.

“Did you hear me?” The subtle laugh in Jack’s voice and the lilt of the question made Bitty want to fall apart into mud.

“Not really.”

Jack was laughing. Bitty’s heart did somersaults.

“I was saying that you really got to work in here and I wasn’t even gone for two hours.”

Bitty turned took his cup of coffee and drank some more, turning his music off as he did so.

“Well  _ someone  _ woke me up at 5am and I couldn’t quite get back to sleep.” He shot Jack a wink, “I decided that instead of scrolling through Twitter I could make use of my time. Just wait til’ we get the kitchen unpacked.”

Bitty’s eyes sparkled. Jack’s stomach did cartwheels.

Eric’s eyes slid over to whatever Jack was doing and he noticed a suitcase - a familiar suitcase - to his right. Jack was holding a shirt (once again; familiar) and putting it into a drawer. Jack wasn’t looking at him anymore, he is currently focused on putting the clothes away. Bitty also took note of the way the light shimmered on his face as he moved from putting clothes in the drawer to bending over (note: ass) and putting away again: repeat.

“Is that my suitcase?” Bitty asked. Jack was smoothing out one of his shirts in the drawer as his cheeks pinkened. 

“Maybe.” A small smile spread over his face as he snuck a glance at Bitty.

“And are those my shirts?”

“Maaayyybe…” The smile grew and so did the blush.

“Jack Zimmermann are you  _ giving me a drawer?” _

“Definitely.” 

As he said that, he closed the drawer as he was done putting Eric’s clothes away. 

“I figured you’re going to be coming here every so often, why not give you somewhere to put your clothes.” The blush started to go away, as did the smile, “Unless you don’t want it. I can put your clothes back if you want. Sorry I didn’t mean to assume-”

“You fucking Canadian-” Eric’s lips were already on Jack’s before he could even finish his sentence. His hands were coming to cup at the sides of Jack’s face, pulling him in and smiling against him.

“Of course I want a drawer.” He whispered as he pulled away, “You’re so sweet and so smart to think of that.”

Jack wrapped his arms around Bitty’s waist and pulled him flush against his chest. The warm smile that Bitty saw directed at him from Jack was a memory to keep close to his heart. One of those images that he thinks of when he’s in his room, doing homework or just missing him in general. Something to keep him sated, to let him know that even though they can’t be next to each other 24/7, when they  _ are _ there, Jack is giving him smiles like that. 

Jack loves him.

“I love you.” Bitty says and Jack is whispering it back to him as he kisses him. As he marks down his neck and giggles with Bitty when he says a comment about  _ getting off task, Mr. Zimmermann.  _

Because he does, in fact, love Bitty. They love  _ each other _ . Which is so strange to think about, at this moment in time, because Jack kind of accepted that fact, when he was sixteen, that maybe being loved was too hard. Maybe being  _ in love  _ was too difficult and he didn’t quite deserve it anyways. After that moment, sitting in that hospital bed, he just gave up on that stuff. He focused on getting better  _ himself  _ and getting back on the ice and making people proud. Jack never took to heart that maybe getting better and getting to  _ this point,  _ getting to the NHL, would have to require some love. Love for himself and love from other people.

And here he is. Graduated from college, playing for the Falconers and standing here in his Providence apartment with the love of his life. With Eric, who drove all the way from Samwell to come up this weekend to help him move into this new place. Eric who organized his clothes for him as Jack took to his daily routine. Eric, who looked like the cutest thing in the entire world dancing around his walk-in closet to whatever pop music and putting cufflinks in ziplock bags for him.

“Hey Bits?” Jack asks, after they’ve gotten just about everything put away, save for the box of underwear that, for some reason,  _ Bittle  _ is going through.

“Mhm?” Eric replies, offhandedly, as he folds Jack’s boxer briefs neatly.

“Okay first of all-” he reaches over and grabs the box of underwear, “I’m glad you’re comfortable handling my underwear but that’s something I can do.” Bitty is smiling at him anyways, 

“You wanna go unpack the kitchen next? Maybe we can go to the store and pick up some pie ingredients…” Jack says it as if he’s nervous, for whatever reason, but Bitty is lighting up and tackling him to the floor.

Between peppered kisses, Bitty responds with, “Oh Jack! I’d love to! I can make you some kind of meringue, or maybe a chocolate pudding-” at this point he’s just straddling Jack’s hips and thinking out loud, “oh a  _ banana and chocolate pudding pie _ ! With  _ graham cracker crust!” _

Jack’s resting his hands on Bitty’s hips and looking at him like he’s his world. Which, at the moment, just seeing Bitty in this giddy state of pre-pie-baking, he is Jack’s world.


End file.
